The Iridescence of Blood
by x. the-sweet-simplicity
Summary: [Kai's POV] They've got it wrong. It's not the feeling I like. .. It's the colour. [I do not own Beyblade]


The Iridescence of Blood

_They've got it wrong. It's not the feeling I like. .. It's the colour._

* * *

_It's been two years hasn't it? .. Two years since you left, two years since you died.. Two years since I lost myself._

Kai Hiwatari, now eighteen, leaned against the bathroom door as he pressed the razor deep into his skin, the feeling of slicing pain rushing up his arm. He exhaled the breath he held and watched as the thick liquid dripped onto the tiled floor. His eyes followed the direction of the blood drop after drop.. Cut after cut. He leaned his head back feeling a bit faint, but only for a second. One drop would not escape his vision.

_How long am I planning to do this? Just how long can I keep this up?_

He turned his head back to the vibrant liquid. The deep, but bright blood dripped down his arm, past his elbow and onto the floor creating a stream between the cracks of the tiles where his eyes lazily followed. The blood trickled fast now, filling up the tile cracks quicker reminding him even more of her.

_So lively.. Just like her.._

His eyes spoke the words of a lonely soul, the reflection of red droplets passing by his crimson irises. He was flooding his mind with her image, and her scent. As the stream of blood lengthened, so did the years his memories took him back to. The devolve of his oxygen-rich blood began to slow along with his intakes and outtakes of breaths to match.

_I can remember her so vividly, like she's here standing right in front of me. Like I'm staring right into her.._

He remembered how it happened. A car crash. His thoughts then were more along the lines of, "A car crash? Cheh, how cliché." His cruel mind later began to think more of the situation, and the fact that she wouldn't be there anymore to cheer him on in beybattles, or be the one to find him in the usual place he'd run off to. She wouldn't be there. Period. Not like he expected her to be. She was lost to him forever. But no, it wasn't love. He thought of it at times, but he knew it wasn't love. It was longing. He only _wanted_ her to be there. He just missed her.. Right?

_Am I sure I don't love her?_

He noticed his blood had dried and the flow had stopped. He closed his eyes, and without even a single thought, brought the blade down below the previous cut. It was so straight edged, with not so much as a blink. He didn't even flinch. The faded scars scattered almost carelessly over his arms were proof that he had done this before. Many times before. It was like dé·jà vu, except the difference lied in the sense that it wasn't an illusion. His skin was paler, his body weaker. He'd lost too much blood all for one simple thing. Deeper than the last, blood started to flow freely from his arm hypnotizing him with it's liquid descent. His thoughts traced back without lifting his gaze.

_I don't love her. It's just desire._

This was the reason for his absolute insanity at the statement that he was in love with her. And that his way of bringing back her memory was sadistic. A sadist. His teammates couldn't be anymore dense, could they? His team was clouded by judgement, they couldn't place the simplicity of it all. They thought he liked harming himself.

_I loved her eyes. They were full of determination. Stubborn is more like it, but determined would be the word for her attitude. Her eyes could be hard hitting, but could turn soft when need be. I loved that about her. The ruby red, almost blood-like liquidness of her eyes._

He could only laugh at his team's apprehension. They misunderstood him completely. He smiled as cut by cut, more blood was spilt.

_I don't know. Maybe I do love her._

The pain was almost unbearable. Pools of blood were scattered on the bathroom floor. He eyes couldn't stay glued to one in particular. He seemed almost amazed by it all.

_They've got it wrong. It's not the feeling I like. .. It's the colour._

* * *

Sorry if it was bad. First story. . Flames are allowed, don't worry. I support freedom of speech. (Minus the government part) Oh yeah, and I know this was OOC (I think), but I've been wanting to do this story for a long time. Review only if you want, please! 3 


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